Wounded in the Compound
by CrownJulz
Summary: A young women arrives at the 4077th MASH, wounded and with no ID. Who is she, how did she get there and how does she become such a dear asset? (We'll stick with this description for now, until I can think of something more appropriate)
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **Hey, new to this sort of thing, but really posting it so I can share to a couple of people. I know it's long, I do apologise for that. Trying to separate it into chapters but will sit like this for a little while. I wrote this about a month ago before I left for a pilgrimage/mission trip to the Philippines. I hope to rwrite I lot more of this as I have so many more ideas bubbling through my brain. Hope you enjoy and feel free to review! Thanks a bunch!

P.S. I've heard there a couple of theses types of stories wondering around the place, but I wrote this before I even knew about them, so yeah, there's that.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own creativity for for the show MASH or the characters, except Angel, she is of my own creation. I am writing purely for my own enjoyment.

* * *

**Wounded in the Compound.**

"Attention all personnel, wounded in the compound! All shifts to stations, it's going to be a long one!"

There's an echo of the war in the distance, a bomb is dropped and 50 miles away its impact can be felt by the surgeons and nurses who rush to the wounded. Choppers fly overhead; the wind from their blades churns up the dust on the ground. Nurses go one way; corpsmen go the other and the surgeon's dash from patient to patient, never stopping. The compound is flooded by young men, whose bodies have been destroyed by the vicious life of war. One by one, the wounded are piled onto stretches with the greatest amount of care, there's a somewhat elegance to the way they are placed. Nurses dance around the flood of wounded, as the more sever of the casualties are taken into pre op. Its organised chaos, the urgency seems to somehow drown the violent sounds of war in the back ground. In the middle of it all lays a girl, she's grasping for air while her bloodied arm clutches her side. With each heavy and desperate breath her young pale face, tenses in agony, all her strength is gone. She musters all her strength and rests her head to the side and drip by drip, thick red droplets fall in front of her face, catching on her eyelashes and sliding down her dirty pale cheeks, only to fall on the stretcher she's laying on, joining the blood of soldiers who had laid there before her. Nurses rush past, and one by one, she sees near lifeless bodies pass her in stretchers, one by one, she just lies there. She reaches out, but she is just too week. More and more bodies are carried away, some groaning in pain, and some, like her, too weak to move. She just lies there, like a lowly tuft of grass in the middle of a wild stampede. The light begins to dim in her bright green eyes, she feels the warm Korean spring sun on her face, and slowly the light fades, her already pale face becomes lifeless, and she just lays there, too weak to even cry. The light is gone.

"Hawk, get over here!" A tall young man leant over the girl, and studied her wounds. He was shocked, and quite baffled, but his now tired blue eyes reflected serious worry. He looked over his shoulder and saw his colleague running towards them, dodging the stretches full of wounded on the ground and brushing his black hair out of his face.

"What is it B…" He paused and knelt beside the tall man his eyes reflected an equal amount of worry and shock. "Oh God…" He noticed her side and carefully lifted her hand it from its gentle but firm grip on her side. He studied it, checked her pulse, nothing. He glanced at his colleague and slowly shook his head and looked down. "She can't be more than 25 years old."

"And not even army." The tall man remarked, noticing her lack of dog tags and uniform.

"We don't know that for sure." The black haired man replied as he rested his hand on her forehead and wiped away the blood on her face. He went to call for the priest when the girl took a grasp for air and made the slightest grown. The doctors looked at each other, each expression mirroring the other. The black haired one looked down at her and moved his hand down to her shoulder. "It's going to be okay, my name is Hawkeye, and I'm going to look after you. BJ, help me get her into the OR." He wasn't even sure, if she could hear him, but any comfort was good comfort in this terrible place. By this time the two surgeons, Hawkeye and BJ and the young girl where alone in the sun, all other wounded where accounted for and where being prepared for their time in the operating theatre. The two surgeons gently lifted her up and rush her over to the operating theatre. They burst through the doors and handed her over to the first free nurses and corpsman they could find.

"Prep her and get her into the OR."

* * *

"How is she?" BJ asked sincerely as he jolted up from his slouched position, and handed Hawkeye a much needed drink.

"Not great, she's lost a lot of blood, and too many whole's in her to count. It's a wonder she made it through the night. Any luck finding out who she is and where she came from?"

"Nothing, it's like she just appeared out of nowhere. No one seems to know who she is."

"I guess we are just going to have to wait until she wakes up to find out."

"And who knows how long that will be; she's in a pretty bad way."

"You're quite fond of her already aren't you?" BJ said with a gentle smile.

Hawkeye leant against the centre support post of The Swamp. The Swamp was a fairly simple tent, with enough room for four to five cots, with a homemade still separating BJ and Hawkeye's beds. The rickety wooden posts held up the khaki canopy that bellowed in the wind. Appropriately named, The Swamp was a true testament of war, and was often in state of mess, it was often difficult to make your way to the other side. Clothes were thrown everywhere, socks on chairs, underwear on trunks, books thrown carelessly on the ground. Captain's Hawkeye Pierce and BJ Hunnicutt made up a team of three surgeons that lived in The Swamp; along with the rats and cockroaches they were accompanied by their incompetent and sour faced counterpart Major Frank Burns. These three where part of a very important group of surgeons, as well as their colonel, Sherman Potter, that made up part of a much larger team of the 4077th MASH, a mobile army hospital right in the thick of the Korean War.

"Just worried, she's too young." replied Hawkeye. "I just want to know how someone like her could end up in a place like this."

"She'll be okay, Hawk."

A faint smile stretched across his face, and his wise hazel eyes showed respect for his friend. BJ was a young surgeon that had only really been in Korea for a few months, but was already a very important part of the family. BJ was calm mannered and usually the voice of reason for Hawkeye. He had wit, and was not afraid to be a practical joker, his pranks sometimes the life of the party. But he was always easy going and no one could really figure him out and his light brown hair starting to grey as the years rolled by.

"Any way, I don't know about you, but I think I hear food calling me." teased BJ.

"Next thing you know it'll be up and walking." Taunted Hawkeye.

They both looked at the snoring Frank Burns in the cot opposite them.

"Let's hope not, human Frank is bad enough." replied BJ, as he opened the door to The Swamp gesturing for Hawkeye to exit "after you."

* * *

Nurses walked from bed to bed, completing their rounds, checking on each and every patient with the greatest amount of care. Right in the middle lays the girl, wrapped up in bandages, lying there on her back with IV and blood tubes pumping life into her. She's peaceful and breathing smoothly. Slowly she begins to open her eyes; all she sees is the wooden ceiling above her, and the mumbled sound of voices around her. She carefully turns her head to the left wincing in pain, all she can see is cot after cot, with men, bandaged up, some resting, some sitting up writing letters home, others playing a game of cards with other patients.

She turned her head to the right; sitting next to her bed was the black haired man. _What was his name? _She can't remember. She looked at him, he was asleep, his head resting on his fist, leaning up against the make shift wall of the post op ward. _How long had he been there? _She smiled a faint smile as his head began to fall off of his fist; she laughed, but stopped suddenly as a jolt of pain fled through her and she rolled back to look at the ceiling. At that moment, the black haired man was jolted awake, and looked around to see if anyone noticed that he had dosed off.

"It's okay, no one saw."

He straightened up and looked at the girl and smiled. "Nice to see you awake. How do you feel?"

"Better than you look." She replied trying to roll her head back to face him, but was stopped by the pain again. "How long have you been there?"

"Stay still." He, leant over and checked her wounds and pulse, and sighed in relief. "What's your name?"

"I'm … Angel, Angel Stone." She said hesitantly, "and you are?"

"Hawkeye" He says as he fiddled with the IV bottles. "You are somewhat of a mystery."

"It's just Angel. What happened?" She tried to sit up but he stopped her.

"You're not very good at doing as your told are you? Don't worry, neither am I. Stay still and lie down. Get some rest, I'll be back to check on you soon. I have someone who wants to meet you." He smiled and walked away, as she closed her eyes and did what she was told, she got some rest.

* * *

She awoke to the sounds of shiny polished boots, walking down the isle of cots, the laces thudding against the freshly polished leather. They were short and sharp, but somehow hard, every step accompanied by the swish of a lab coat and the jangle of a stethoscope against dog tags. He was a shortish man, with little hair and a sneer that could sink a ship and his pointy little nose complimenting a just as notable pointy chin. He walked towards her and as he approached she rested her head to the side. He stopped short at the foot of her bed, and fiddled with her chart, flicking through the pages.

"Get up." He demanded.

She carefully looked at him, with a slightly confused look on her face.

"Excuse me sir, but..?"

"I said get up!" he demanded again "and that's Major to you."

His high pitched voice rung through her ears and bellowed in her already thumping head, she winced in pain. At that point he marched up to her side and began forcing her upright. Just as he was about to place his large clammy hands on her shoulders the doors opened with a creak and Hawkeye and a doctor she didn't recognise walked through, laughing about a joke that one of them must have shared earlier. They stopped sharp, looking over at the girl being forced up right, clearly in pain. They rushed over immediately, their worn boots, and steps softer in comparison to the ones before. Hawkeye pushed him away while the other tended to the girl.

"Frank, what the hell are you doing!?"

"She shouldn't be here; she's not army, captain." The short man shot back. "She's a disgrace to this outfit."

Hawkeye shoved him to the side and sits on the cot to tend to the girl.

"Frank, the only disgrace to this outfit is you, can't you see she can't be moved?" said the other doctor, glaring up. He looked down to the girl and smiled. "I'm BJ, by the way. Sorry about our pet here."

"We try to lock him up at night but the other rats don't like him." Hawkeye punched in, tending to the girl.

She laughed gently and settled herself.

"You okay?" asked Hawkeye.

"I'm okay." She said as she gave a strong smile.

He grinned in reply. "I see you have now met my friend BJ."

BJ smiled and gave a wave. "You're a bit of a mystery, you don't mind if we ask you a few questions do you? We would very much like to know where you came from."

"Well when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much." She replied with a joking smile, but she stopped and turned serious. She looked down to her lap and fiddled with her hands "To be honest though I'm not even sure what I'm doing here myself."

"Neither do I. They drafted me and drained my memory before I even got the chance to find out who I am." joked Hawkeye.

She laughed lightly and carefully sat up. "My father was a military man, I guess you could say I'm a bit of an army brat, but unlike most I detested the army life. Anyway, he was assigned to the war, and I was left in the states."

"Where is home?" Asked BJ

"Nowhere, we travelled a lot, was never really in one place for too long." She sighed "The thing was though, I didn't really have anyone left in the States, father left me with my only aunt, who I didn't really like anyway."  
"Like the good Major over there" Chimed BJ as he received a sneer from the neighbouring Major Burns.

"You could say that. I lived with her for a couple of months, but I was tired of her way of living. I wanted to do something. That's when I got a call. My father had been wounded, badly, and he wanted to see me and I didn't know why. So I packed up the few things I had and went to catch a plane to Soul. When I arrived I was told that he had passed away." She looked down at her lap again, and fiddled. "They didn't let me stay, to be honest, I didn't want to. The army had killed my father and I didn't want to have anything to do with them. So they put me on a jeep and moved me out of there. Long story short, on my way back to the airfield we ran into some locals… Well I say locals… and basically that's where the story ends." She smiled faintly.

Hawkeye and BJ just looked at each other, they didn't know what to say, what could they? She had one hell of a time. Hawkeye gave in; he reached over and touched her lightly on the elbow. "I'm sorry, he said"

"Don't be," she said with a shrug "things happen."

BJ sat up straight. "If there is anything we can do for you, just let us know, okay?"

She mumbled something under her breath, and then looked at the two surgeons. "I'm fine, but thank you, you have given me my life, and that's enough for me."

The surgeons looked at each other and smiled. Hawkeye stood up and BJ followed suite, but not after Hawkeye put in one last word. "Well, if you do need anything more, just shout." And they began to walk away.

"Well…" Angel began, and they stopped and turned around. "A note book and some pencils would be lovely."

They smiled and nodded in unison and walked out the doors with an even stride. Angel rested her head back and sighed.

* * *

Angel peaked over the top of the note book to glance over at one of the nurses; she looked back again and started sketching furiously. She stopped and looked over to the far end of the ward where she saw three large men, wrapped up in bandages, on around the head, another around his waist and arm, and the third in a sling and his leg in a cast, the bandages bulging at the seams they were so large. They were gruff and looked like they could quite easily tear the place apart with their bare hands. They were playing a game of cards, she couldn't tell what. They were yelling at each other, arguing about something, she couldn't quite work it out. A nurse walked passed her and she closed the notebook and placed on the chair beside her, she called out, "excuse me nurse."

The nurse smiled and walked over to her bedside, "what can I do for you?"

She was a medium sized strong woman, independent and often loud. Angel had noticed her arguing often with one of the surgeons, more often than not, it would be the Major, Frank Burns. Her white blond hair was resting on her shoulders, her eyes where kind and she walked with authority. She checked Angel's heart rate, her hands on her wrist warm and soft to the touch.

"You wouldn't mind taking me over to those guys over there? I would very much like to join in." Angel said as she gestured over to the burly men playing cards.

The nurse looked taken aback "The marines?" She questioned, "Are you sure?"

"Mhmmm" Angel nodded.

The nurse carefully lifted her into a wheel chair and wheeled her over. She looked up to the nurse and smiled. "Thank you" and the nurse left to check on the rest of the patients, but always looking over to check on the girl.

"Deal me in" The marines quietened from their arguing and looked at her. After a little while they simply went back to playing their game. "Well that's rude." She sat there, as they ignored her. She leaned over and looked at one of the men's hand of cards, "tsk tsk tsk, I wouldn't trust that if I were you, guy over there is gonna whip your butt." She nodded her head to the man opposite. Finally they lost their temper and flung the cards everywhere, one landing comically in her face, and she brushed it away.

"What do you want?" One of the men asked in a gruff voice.

"Well, I would like to join in if you don't mind."

"Do you even know who you are talking too?" asked the one with the bad hand of cards that she had just exposed.

"Someone who can't play cards?" she questioned sarcastically.

"Colonel Winters, young lady."

"Well, my apologies" She gave a lazy salute. "Sir."

"And no you cannot join; this is a man's game."

"Oh so, just because I'm a girl, I can't play. Well I tell you what, let me play one game and if I lose, I will wheel me and my frail female body away, but if I win, you let me stay for a couple more games." She paused "what do ya say colonel?"

Five games later she was still there, with a rather large pile of counters sitting on her lap. She peaked over the tip of her cards and glanced at each and every one of the disgruntled marines. She was to engross in the game that she failed to notice Hawkeye at his desk watching her. Behind him, the nurse that had wheeled her over earlier placed a clip board in front of him for him to sign.

"I tell you what Pierce, that girl of yours is a trooper."

"Just my patient Margaret, and yes, she is." He looked down to the paper and signed it and handed it back to her.

"That's Major, Captain."

"Yes Sir!" Hawkeye stood up gave a little wave salute and marched out the door, his lab coat waving side to side and his knees reached up to his chest with every step. He stopped to look through the little window in the wooden door and smiled in the direction of the girl, and left.

* * *

She walked across the camp, the blue army regulation bath robe, dragging in the dry dirt. It was nice to be outside, the Korean spring sun, warmed her face. She walked past soldiers, and members of the camp, smiling and waving to them as they walked past her. She was still quite shaken and sore from her wounds, but strong enough to walk independently, they had let her out a few times before, only from her insisting and to stop her from leaving herself. She scuffed the dirt with her boot and looked up to the sky, a bird flew overhead, and she could hear the hum of a Jeep coming into the yard. She was stopped by a man in a dress, his chest hairs awkwardly poking out from the neckline of the silk red fabric, and his large nose reaching out from under his stylish beret, she recognised him as Corporal Klinger, she had seen him around the ward a few times, and he would often tend to her. She had heard stories about how he was trying for a section eight, she laughed every time she heard of one his crazy schemes. He smiled at her and gave her a wave, then rushed over, his high heels dragging in the dirt.

"I would be getting inside if I were you; it's going to get pretty hectic out here." He said with a smile and walked her towards the post op ward.

"Such a fancy get up you have there," She said "I wouldn't mind having a look through you're collection sometime, these rags they gave me are starting to itch."

He laughed, "Why do you think I wear a dress?"

As they were about to reach the hospital, a crackle came from the loudspeakers. "All men on deck, we have wounded in the compound." And Jeeps and ambulances hauling wounded came flooding into the camp.

"You right to go on your own from here?" asked Klinger.

"Hmm?" She wasn't listening she was too busy watching people run to the aid of the soldiers. She looked over and saw Hawkeye and BJ running out of The Swamp, dodging people as they ran. "Oh right, yes I'll be fine." She said with a smile and reached to the open the door. But she stopped as she was about to walk through and looked over the ambulance nearest to her. One of the nurses was struggling to hold down a very restless patient, his hands where waving around and she had to dodge to avoid being smacked in the face by a wayward hand. Angel turned around and began to walk over, as she did she noticed Hawkeye tending to a patient, he looked up at her, straight in the eye. He looked at her confused, but she kept walking and pulled up her sleeves. Her step quickened as she reached the restless patient and nurse in the back of the ambulance. She climbed carefully up to the nurse and tapped her on the shoulder and smiled. She was a young nurse, and from what Angel had seen, hadn't been there long at all, maybe a week or so.

"May I?" Angel asked softly.

The nurse stood back, wiped sweat from her forehead and nodded. She left to tend to a more docile patient opposite her, but looked back, curious.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay. I'm going to help you." Angel laid her hands on his shoulders and gently laid him down on the stretcher, but he moved suddenly and went to lay his head back in preparation to head butt, but Angel stood back and just looked at him. He was young Korean man, maybe from the north? She couldn't tell and he obviously didn't speak English. She smiled and crossed her arms, but winced at the pressure it placed on her side. She unfolded them and placed one to her the bandaged section of her waist, and the other she slowly moved to his shoulder again, to push him back down. "It's okay" She mouthed and smiled. He looked to her side, and noticed the pain she was in, he then looked back at her. "I was injured to, but they fixed me up, it's okay." She smiled and he obligingly laid down, looking in her eyes, and seeing the kindness she held there. She turned to hear footsteps coming up the metal steps of the ambulance and saw Hawkeye standing there, with a blank look on his face, he had his arm, reaching up to hold onto the bar at the top of the door way, he swung as he settled himself into a stance. He just looked her blankly, but concerned. She looked up from checking the patient over, she reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small but dangerous knife, flung it onto the floor and kicked it under a chair. She looked at Hawkeye and smiled a faint smile. "He's all yours doc" and she left the ambulance and went back on her way. Hawkeye looked over to the nurse she had taken over from and she just smiled in approval, and he looked behind him, watching the blue night gown brush over the dirt, covering Angel's tracks.

"Who was that unmasked patient?"

* * *

It had been six weeks since Angel had first arrived at the MASH 4077th, and already she was starting to feel like she belonged there. This was a strange thing for her, she detested the army, but this MASH unit was different, she felt welcomed. She was still in no state to be shipped off back to the States, or at least, that's what she was told. She was smart enough to know that this wasn't the real reason, of course, but she still couldn't figure out why. She'd been moved several times, from her original spot in Post Op, to a bed in a VIP tent, she was then moved in with some of the nurses. But now, she was given a more permanent residency, they had set up a cot for her in the corner of The Swamp, in-between BJ and Frank and directly opposite Hawkeye. BJ and Hawkeye had insisted on her moving in with them, on account that there was nowhere else for her to go, this was much to Frank's disgust, but he got over it, eventually. She'd taken to calling Frank on a first name basis, she didn't care much for rank, and she wasn't army so he couldn't court martial her, but most of all, it annoyed him and she found much amusement in his discomfort. He treated her like dirt, and did the same to pretty much everyone else in the camp. She had swapped, her itchy regulation pyjamas for one of the many green army shirts, that the nurses had given her, a pair of grey pants and an old pair of army boots that Major Margaret Houlihan had handed down to her. Margaret, had offered to take her in, but Angel felt more at home in The Swamp with the surgeons. She didn't know what it was exactly but she enjoyed their company, they made her laugh and she got along well with them both. It wasn't just the surgeons that she got along with, everyone made her feel welcome. She had made good friends with the nurses and always made time to call in on the patients. She liked to talk to them, and she always tried to do something for them, she had even started a program with the priest of the camp, Father Mulcahy, He had noticed her one day, sitting on a crate outside of the hospital about a week after she had first arrived. She'd spoken to him before, and he seemed nice enough, but on this day, he pointed out the notebook she was given when she first arrived. It was sitting open on her lap and looking out to the distance, with a pencil resting in the spine. She hardly even noticed him when he walked up to her and poked his light young face in front of her.

"What is it you have here my dear?" He said sitting next to her and taking off his funny little hat.

She jumped slightly and closed the book, looking up at him. "Oh, what, this? It's nothing." She said hesitantly.

"It sure looks like something. May I?"

She handed the book over to him hesitantly and watched him as he flicked through the pages; he stopped at the latest filled page, a drawing of Margaret.

"These are lovely," He said, admiring the soft pencil marks, "I didn't know you could draw."

"It's just a hobby." She looked embarrassed, and shrugged.

He flicked back to one of the pages, earlier on. It was one of her first drawings, and was of a man he didn't recognise. Angel saw him staring at it, snatched it back and closed it, moving her hand over the wood cover. She looked at the Father and saw his slightly shocked face.

"I'm… I'm sorry Father." She paused, "I don't usually let people look at my work." She looked embarrassed but the father just rested his hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay my child, don't be sorry. I won't tell a soul."

"Thank you father"

He got up to leave and walked a couple of steps and turned back to face her. "You should put that talent to good use you know? If you are interested I might have an idea for you? Just let me know." He turned back, placed his hat on his head, hands in pockets and walked away.

From that day on, Angel drew a picture of every patient that came through the 4077th for them to send to their loved ones. No one knew except the father, it was their own little secret. And it was nice. She felt happy doing something good for someone. She was still self-conscious, but it made her feel whole knowing that someone was appreciating her work.

* * *

In the seventh week, she was called to the colonel's office. She was sitting on the cot playing darts when Radar knocked on the door of The Swamp. Radar was a short little man, young, and innocent. Angel loved him, and she admired him, already he was like a younger brother to her, he would usually come and sit next to her in the mess tent, and eat meals with her. She would often joke about the large amount of food on his tray. She threw a dart at the board which was precariously placed on the inside of the door. He was about to open it when the flying dart landed, he jumped back and a shocked look appeared on his little face. Angel sat up as he went to open the door a second time. He peaked his head through the crack and looked around nervously, and then stood his short little body fully in the door way.

"Ah, the Colonel wants to see you Angel."

"Tell him I'll be right there." She said to him and smiled. Usually the Colonel would come to see her not the other way round, which got her thinking. Was it time for her to leave? Hawkeye and BJ, where busy playing volleyball with a blown up glove over the top of a line of washing, they stopped and looked at each other, a smile on their faces. Angel stopped and noticed. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," BJ said and shrugged and they went back to playing their game, Hawkeye's grin growing ever so wider.

Angel got up and walked out the door, she didn't know what to expect, she didn't really want to leave, she had become so fond of everyone, but she was still being treated like a patient. She wasn't completely recovered, and was still a little slow and moved in pain, but it was bearable and she could move with independence. As she walked toward Colonel Potter's office, she heard a rustle behind her; she turned around and found nothing, just a faint shadow moving behind a jeep. She glanced over to The Swamp, the faint silhouette of the two grown men playing with the glove was gone, The Swamp was empty. She reached the doors to the office and pushed them open, and walked over to Radar sitting at his desk writing up the daily report.

"I'll let Colonel Potter know you are here." He said as he stood up from his seat and straightened his glasses.

"Thanks" She watched him as he shuffled over to the door to the office.

Colonel Potter was a short man, wise and humorous; he held authority, but remained equal with every member of the 4077th. He was regular army, started with the cavalry, drawn to it by the glamour. He was part of World War I and II, and was not afraid to speak of his days in the army. He was a nice man and Angel adored him, ever since she first arrived he was like a second father to her. He was accepting of letting her stay those extra weeks and welcomed her into the family. He even defended her when Frank disputed her being there. He stood up as she walked in and gestured for her to sit. Soldiers only ever did that when someone of a higher rank entered a room. What was going on? She sat down and looked around at the paintings on the walls. She admired his painting skills, they were really quite lovely.

"Angel, I have something I want to talk to you about. I was talking to Pierce and Hunnicutt, and they posed something to me, that I must admit, I had been thinking about myself for a while now."

She sat there.

"You have proved an asset to the camp and everyone seems to adore you. I have been watching you around the camp and you are a wonder with the patients. I wonder sometimes if you have had any medical training…"

"Well actually Sir…" She spoke up, "I was trained as a nurse, for a while, but never got to finish my schooling."

He looked at her and a smile stretched across his face, like he already knew. He stood up and she followed suite, he walked around to her hand look her in the eye. "Angel, how would like to stay and be a permanent member of our team?"

She simply just looked at him, a little shocked. She didn't know what to say. This was the army, she detested the army, but it was her opportunity to do some good in the world, she could even be in one place more than one year at a time. She smiled and laughed, a tear rolled from her eye and she hugged the colonel and he hugged her back.

"I would love to!"

"Right then," he pulled away "welcome to the family!"  
At that moment Hawkeye and BJ marched through the door, pretending to blow trumpets and throwing toilet paper around. They came over and hugged her. Was this some kind of strange ritual or where they just being their normal selves, she couldn't tell. Hawkeye pulled out a small box from his, pocket and BJ a plunger from behind him. Hawkeye bowed and pulled out a pair of dog tags and placed them over Angel's head. She looked down at them, and saw her name, birth date, and a whole heap of other information she had never told them. _Those rascals, _she thought. BJ marched over bowed and tapped each of her shoulders, with what she hoped was a clean plunger.

"I now dub thee, the honourable Angel Stone, member of the 4077th MASH."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Letter

**Note: **So It's taken me a while to update this, so I do apologise. My innitial direction with this has changed slightly but we will see how it goes. It's also alot shorter then the last one. Thank you all for the kind reviews.

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Angel leant backwards on the rickety wooden chair outside The Swamp and gently placed her feet on top of a chest, her toes covering faded black lettering the spelt out the words, Maj. F. Burns. Beside her was BJ, his feet sturdy to the ground, leaning back on the faded striped folding chair, and repairing a pair of socks that reeked of sweat. _I wish these boys would wash once in a while _she thought to herself. They heard a flap of fabric and the clang of wood as Hawkeye emerged, juggling three full martini glasses and a jug. Angel chuckled to herself as he nearly tripped over a stray rock. He corrected himself, with a swish of his black hair and sat down next to Angel, BJ and Angel applauding his lack of balance and skill. As he passed the drinks down the line, he pulled a face. Angel took a sip of the gin, and her face wrinkled like a lemon. Those boys introduced her to drinking, and she still wasn't sure that she was going to get used to it. The day after she was invited to stay at the 4077th MASH they practically inducted her over at Rosie's bar, a small establishment, just across the road run by a local women, then brought her back to The Swamp to abuse their kidneys with what she hoped wasn't poison.

They sat there, in their relaxed positions, and watched the day pass by. People hurried passed, jeeps drove on their way and occasionally a dog would run passed being chased by the ever faithful Radar. There had been a temporary truce and the members of the 4077th where treasuring the first quiet stretch of war they had, had in a long time. For once post op was empty with the exception of a couple of minor cases. It was a nice change from the usual hustle and bustle she had gotten used to from the few months she had been there. But she had got her down time. Her first few weeks as an official member where far from easy, she was thrown right into the deep end, but she handled it with as much ease as she possibly could. She'd fitted in perfectly, and everyone accepted her right away, even Frank Burns, much to her surprise.

Angel started to take another sip of her gin, but as she did, a football came flying in her direction and landed right in the centre of her chest, the drink flying straight into her face and all down her shirt. Hawkeye and BJ couldn't hold back their laughter, their howls filling the camp making people in the close vicinity stop and stare. Angel looked up and spat, a disgruntled but amused look on her face.

"Hey Angie! Throw it back would you?" A far of man called. They had all taken to calling her Angie, and she quite honestly preferred it. Angel was too formal for her liking, but it had pleased her father.

She placed the glass down and leant over to pick up the ball. She stood and prepared to launch.

"Incoming!" She shouted, and threw the ball to the far off man, and as it flew through the air, it narrowly missed several people on its course. The man jumped to catch but missed as the ball cleared his head completely. He turned just in time to see the ball squarely hit Frank Burns in the back of the head. At this point, everyone stopped to watch the commotion. Frank jumped and turned around, glaring at each and every person, finally settling on Angie, who was standing in-between two hysterical surgeons, with her arms crossed. Frank went to kick the ball on the ground but missed and stubbed his toe on the ground, only then to storm away in a huff. Angie held her glass up to the sky as if to toast, and gave a cheeky grin, then sat back down and began to laugh with the boys.

At that moment a Jeep came into the compound and screeched to a halt. Two MP's stepped out and walked towards the three, one holding an envelope.

"We're look for a Miss Angel Stone. We were told we could find her here?" One of the men asked the three.

They all stopped to look at each other, and for a moment Angie thought her time was up, and it was time for her to go home, wherever that was. She just stared blankly and shrugged at BJ and Hawkeye, who just sort of glared. She took a breath and stood up.

"This is she." She said with a nervous tone.

"We were told to deliver this to you." One of the MP's handed her the envelope.

She took the envelope and looked down at the curved ink lettering, she recognised it instantly.

"That is all." The MP's turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Angie called out, but it was too late, the two men where back in the jeep and had driven away. Leaving Angie in the dust to stare down at the letter, a tear rolled from her eye and landed on the soft, browned envelope. Behind her, BJ and Hawkeye up to her side, both glanced at each other and stood next to her. Hawkeye saw that she was distressed and put his hand on her shoulder.

"What is it Angie?" He asked tentatively.

"Nothing" she paused "just a letter." Putting the letter in her pocket and sat back down to watch the day roll by.


	3. Chapter 3 - To my Dearest Angel,

**Note: **Okay so this has completely changed from my first idea, but we will see how it goes. If it seems all over the place, I do apologise. Thank you for all your words of encouragement :)

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Days rolled past, nights dragged on and no one asked about the letter, Angie just presumed that the boys had just simply forgotten, but she knew better than that, they weren't that kind of people. They cared, but they cared enough not to ask. Things just moved on.

Angie walked through the doors of the mess tent and the familiar stench of lunch filled her nostrils. She picked up a tray and joined the line, peaking over the shoulders in front of her to see exactly what was on the menu.

"Come and get it! Today's grub… is well… Grubs." Klinger proclaimed as he sweated over the hot food in one of his best blue gowns, matched with fish net gloves, his pearl bracelet dangling precariously over the food.

As Angie reached her spot in line she looked over the food, Klinger grinning down at her.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you stayed."

"Klinger, Sometimes I wonder why you would ever want to leave" she chuckled as he slopped a spoonful of mush on her tray. She glanced down at it and swore she saw something move. "I take that back." She picked up a piece of stale bread, waved it in his direction and walked over to where Hawkeye, BJ and Colonel Potter where sitting.

"Room for one more?" she asked as she sat down, and slid over next to BJ. Across form her Hawkeye was playing with his food, picking it up, smelling it, and throwing it into a corner of his tray.

"You know Hawk, one day that food is actually going to get into your mouth." teased BJ.

"I would rather die than eat this." replied Hawkeye.

"That's exactly what would happen if you did eat it." Angie piped in with a smile.

"Touché." He remarked as he flung another piece of mush into the corner of his tray. He stopped playing with his food and, with a cheeky grin on his face, nodded towards Frank, who was lining up for his lunch. He and Klinger where having an argument over something, but the arguments subsided as Klinger pulled out a pre prepared tray from under the bench and handed it to the Major. There was a note on the tray, and the Colonel could only just make out what it said: _For Frank, from Margret. _Next to him BJ, Angie, and Hawkeye all shared a cunning grin, and a familiar gleam in their eyes. Frank took the tray with a satisfied smile and sat down. But as he did so, his grin turned to concern as his meal began to move, and in an instant millions of cockroaches, emerged from under the slop and started fluttering in his lap. A squeal could be heard as he leapt from his seat, frantically brushing the creepy crawlies from his pants. Frank glared at the three, who were snickering to themselves and the Colonel just shook his head.

"Eat up Frank, protein is good for you!" BJ called as the Major stormed out of the mess tent. And the three just laughed between them.

"And whose idea was this then?" Asked the Colonel, knowing full well what the answer was.

BJ and Hawkeye just pointed at Angie. "Hey! Don't look at me, I just sourced the bugs." She gestured her thumb towards the two men. "It was their idea." Hawkeye and BJ just grinned.

"By Jove, you guys are going to be the end of this camp. I'm the one who has do deal with the backlash, pull in the reins next time. " He said he rose from his seat, "No, three, the three musketeers" He added with a wink, and walked away, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself, a faint laugh here and there.

Hawkeye raised his fork. "All for one!"

BJ and Angel raised theirs in unison and clanged them with Hawkeye's, "and one for all!" they cried in unison.

Angie began to rise from her seat, tray in hand.

"And where are you going?" Asked BJ.

"I'm on duty in.." She looked at her watch "two minutes." She said as she stepped over the wooden plank for a seat.

"Someone's dedicated." Hawkeye said with smile.

"Yeah, well someone has to pull their weight around here." She grinned and walked away.

And Angie did pull her weight, she did odd jobs, worked in post op with the nurses and surgeons, and was even promoted to assistant surgeon a couple of times when the going got tough. She could do pretty much anything they asked of her, and her skills where constant surprises. She worked on the roster just like everyone else, and had the same hours as everyone else. She spent most of her time in post op, checking on patients, keeping watch and talking to patients, telling them stories. She enjoyed it, and even when she wasn't on duty she would call in on a few of the men to keep their spirits up, and of a night where she couldn't sleep she would just simply sit in there and sketch.

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Hawkeye and BJ sat in The Swamp, BJ, reading a letter from home and Hawkeye, browsing through his nudist magazine. From the corner of his eye he spotted a small grey fury shape move in the shadows, he turned back to his magazine but it moved again. He jumped up and stood on his cot, his magazine rolled up and ready to swat. He jumped across and landed on BJ's cot causing him to squirm and roll off. BJ just looked up at him from the floor. Hawkeye went to jump across to Angie's cot in pursuit of the rodent but BJ grabbed his ankle causing his jump to be miss-calculated. He landed on the edge of the cot causing him and the bed to topple over. BJ laughed as he witnessed his friend struggle with the intertwined blankets and throwing the pillow across the room. As it landed a small leather book fell out of the fabric case and landed on the hard ground, its pages sprawled across the floor. As BJ picked it up, Hawkeye emerged from the blankets, his hair ruffled by the scratchy wool. He glanced over and saw BJ flicking through the pages of the leather book. He noticed it instantly as the one they had gotten Angie when she had first arrived. He got up, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and went to sit next to BJ. They flicked through warn yellow pages, on one there was a sketch of BJ and another of Hawkeye, and then a few more and then a few more. As they turned to the last page, a worn brown envelope fell out, and as it fluttered to the ground an equally worn note fell from the opening in the envelope. At the top of the note, they read the words: T_o my Dearest Angel, _in a soft black swirly font.

Hawkeye picked it up and at that moment, Angie walked through the door to The Swamp and saw the two men, sitting there, her notebook in the hands of BJ, and her letter, in the hands of Hawkeye.

They spun around to look at her, and she just sort of stared back and sighed. "I'm not even going to ask what happened." Angie said, she knew full well that they didn't mean to accidently stumble across her things. "Here, give me the letter." She sat down on the end of Hawkeye's bed and the two turned their bodies to face her. She began to read.

"Wait, Angie, you don't have to tell us, we…" Hawkeye started, but BJ stopped him.

"No, it's okay, I should tell you guys, I have a horrible habit of keeping things to myself, and I need to open up every once and a while, so this seems like a good place to start don't you think? Here listen."

The two men looked at each other and leant back on the cot as Angie began to read.

_To my dearest Angel,_

_I know this may be hard for you, and I am so sorry for bringing you to this place, but I wanted to see you one last time. The doctor's here say I will be up and about anytime soon, but we both know that's a lie, you and I have had our fair deal of doctor's over the years, so we know the drill. Don't we my dear? When they told me you were coming I knew you weren't going to make it in time, so I'm writing you this letter. _

_I know I haven't been much of a father to you lately, or rather at all, and I am so sorry for that, I just want you to know that through everything I have loved you. You remind me so much of your mother, you know that, strong, independent… innocent. I know not having her around is tough; it's been tough for me too. But I want you to know that you are not alone in this world. Even now, though I may be gone, remember that you are never on your own. I do hope you find a home. I know you will. And through everything I want you to know that I am proud of you, and so is your mother. She will forever be watching down on you, in whatever you do. But just promise me one thing, my sweet girl, get out of here, get out of this hellish war, don't stay, leave, to many, to many, there doesn't need to be another. Leave; get out now while you still can. No more innocents, no more. Promise me you will do this for me, no excuses my girl. Unless for some God forsaken reason, you stay, of which I know you probably will, I want you to stay safe, stay strong and above all be yourself, don't let them in. I love you. _

_Oh Angel, I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am, I was never really a father to you was I? Just that man who you were made to follow. You're not my soldier, you never where, and for that I am sorry. You never deserved any of this. _

_Stay safe my Angel, _

_With love, Admiral Dominic Stone._

_Dad. _

The two men didn't know what to make of it, Angie sat there holding the letter and looked up with a sigh. She smiled at the boys.

"See, I told you it was just a letter."

They smiled back at her, but there was something deeper. As they looked at her, their eyes gleamed with concern, she wasn't telling them something and that something was important. She was good at hiding it, but they saw, they could tell, there was something eating at her inside. Just then the loud speakers crackled and a voice broke through the white noise. "Wounded in the compound folks, get 'em while they're hot!"


End file.
